Chapter 9: The Compliance

POV: Neoma

The red dot on Kaine’s chest was steady.

It didn't waver. It didn't tremble. It sat perfectly over his heart. A tiny, glowing eye promising the end of my world.

On the screen, Kaine looked around the rusty cage. Wiping blood from his lip. He looked so small. Fragile. Meat and bone waiting to be perforated. He didn't know death was three hundred yards away, holding its breath.

"Three," Nergal counted softly.

The sniper’s finger would be tightening on the trigger. Taking up the slack.

"Two."

I saw Kaine laugh at something—probably a guard. He was always so stupidly brave. He smiled—that crooked grin that used to annoy me when we fought over rations. Now, it looked like the most precious thing in the universe.

My chest compressed. Air trapped.

"One."

"Stop!"

The scream tore my throat raw. Shredded vocal cords.

"I’ll do it! Just stop!"

Nergal raised a hand. He didn't smile. He didn't gloat. He simply looked... satisfied. Like a scientist who had successfully predicted the outcome of an equation.

"Stand down," he commanded the air.

On the screen, the red dot vanished. Kaine leaned back against the bars. Alive. Breathing.

I slumped in the obsidian chair. The fight drained out of me like water from a cracked jar. My head hung low. Sweat dripped onto my knees—cold, clammy. I felt hollowed out. Broken. Nauseous.

"Wise," Nergal murmured. "Love is a devastating weakness, Neoma. But a useful leash."

He stepped closer. His rotted-flower scent washed over me. Clogging my nose. Making my stomach heave.

"Do you know what you are?"

"A prisoner," I rasped. My voice sounded wrecked.

"No. You are a biological impossibility. A Void-Born."

He paced around me. His voice took on a lecture-hall cadence. Smooth. Poisonous.

"The Barzil radiation that mutated humanity usually adds energy. It grants strength. Speed. Shifting. But in one out of ten million cases, the mutation... inverts. Instead of generating energy, your cells absorb it. You are a living black hole."

He stopped in front of me. Leaning down until his milky eyes filled my vision. I could see the red veins in the whites.

"My Ensi are dying, Neoma. The Feral Rot is consuming them. Their power is too great for their biology to sustain. They burn hot. And eventually, they burn out. They turn into mindless beasts."

He reached out. Stroked my hair.

I flinched violently. Skin crawling. But I didn't pull away. I couldn't. Muscles locked in terror.

"You are the coolant," he whispered. "You are the filter. As a Tether, you will be bound to the Unit Vanguard. You will absorb the excess radiation that poisons them. You will drink their corruption so they can remain strong. You will keep my weapons sharp."

"I'm not a medical device," I whispered. Tears—hot and angry—tracked through the grime on my face.

"To me? That is exactly what you are."

He waved his hand at the far wall of the chamber.

The dark stone shimmered. Turned transparent. Revealing an observation deck high above us.

Two figures stood there. Looking down through the glass.

Commander Barzil stood with his arms crossed.. His face a mask of grim stone. He watched me not with pity. But with the hard, assessing look of a general inspecting a new shield.

Beside him, Wolfy Vance was taking notes on a datapad. His expression cool. Detached. Clinical.

And behind them, lurking in the shadows like a chained beast, was Viggo. He wasn't looking at the screen or taking notes. He was staring straight at me. His hands gripped the railing so hard the metal warped under his fingers. His golden eyes burned—not with cruelty, but with a desperate, hungry apology.

They had been watching the whole time.

They had watched Nergal torture me. They had watched him threaten to murder my brother. And they had done nothing.

A cold, hard knot formed in my stomach. It wasn't fear anymore. It was hate. Pure, crystalline hate. It burned in my gut—hotter than the Void.

"They are your masters now," Nergal said. Following my gaze. "They are the strongest Lycans in a generation. And without you, they will be dead in a year. You are... indispensable property."

"If I do this," I said. My voice sounded strange to my own ears—flat. Dead. "Kaine goes free. He gets a pass to the Citadel. He gets a job. And he never knows about this."

"Agreed," Nergal said easily. "As long as you serve, he thrives. If you falter... well, accidents happen in the factories every day."

He straightened up. Smoothing his crimson robes. The shadows seemed to cling to him. Rejoicing in his victory.

"The binding requires a blood contract," Nergal announced to the empty room. "It links your life force to theirs. If they die, you die. If you run, the bond will shatter your mind."

He looked up at the observation deck. Offered a small, mocking bow to his Commanders. Then he looked back at me. His smile revealed teeth that were too white. Too sharp.

"Good," the Lugal purred.

"Bring the contract. Let's bind the little ghost."